


Wicked Grace

by VintageSkies



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Card Games, F/M, Fluff, Gambling, Gen, Poker, Skyhold, Strip Poker, Strip Wicked Grace, Wicked Grace, dai - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-17 21:06:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3543788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VintageSkies/pseuds/VintageSkies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lavellan notices Solas doesn’t attend the last game of Wicked Grace with Varric so she challenges Solas to a game of Strip Wicked Grace assuming that he is bad at cards. (Spoiler: He’s not).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wicked Grace

Aerys sits at the table in Solas’ sanctuary, her back resting halfway down the chair and her legs crossed. She has already lost possession of her boots and tunic, but no matter. Her unhindered feet bring back subtle memories of waving grass, spongy moss, and gentle soil. She wiggles her toes and lets her mind wander to the forest. Lost in the aromas, the wind caresses her cheek and she bends to touch the icy river water with her fingertips.

With a quick jolt, she is back at Skyhold and her brows furrow in concentration. _How is he so good at this? Surely, he must be cheating. How else has he remained fully clothed save his outer tunic?_

She peers at him with a mischievous glint in her eye; the cards hide her grin. Opposite her, Solas sits, his back straight and his elbows neatly tucked at his side.

“Do not get too comfortable, vhenan.”

“Oh?” she raises an eyebrow and places a card next to the disheveled stack of books and papers. Without hesitation, Solas reaches forward and draws a card. The Angel of Death. He smirks and places the card on top of hers.

Aerys sighs in mock-helplessness and displays her hand. Solas, passive and unreadable, does the same. Aerys’s eyes widen as she takes in his cards: three serpents. She looks at hers: two knights, two daggers. She folds her arms across her chest and the corners of her mouth turn downward.

“Alright, fine. You win.”

“Is something wrong, vhenan?” He tilts his head to the side, his eyes mimic her mischievous glint from before. She tries to keep a stern face, tries to display the little bubble of irritation she feels on the inside, but his obviously-false innocence brings a smile to her face instead.

“Not at all.”

Solas folds his arms across his chest so the two of them appear like a mirror. “Your stockings,” he says with a nod. Aerys sighs as she pushes the chair backwards with a thrust from her legs. She stands, wriggles off her pants, and drops them on the floor beside the chair and ever-growing pile of her clothes.

Aerys, left to just her underclothes, sits down with a huff and shuffles the cards nonchalantly. She doesn’t look at the elf across from her until they have each drawn their fourth hand. She notices the slight pinkness to the tips of his ears, but the cards hide his grin.


End file.
